


Bad Blood

by Toni_Lynne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13033878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toni_Lynne/pseuds/Toni_Lynne





	Bad Blood

_All this bad blood here_   
_Won’t you let it dry?_   
_It’s been cold for years_   
_Won’t you let it lie?_

_If we’re only ever looking back_   
_We will drive ourselves insane_   
_As the friendship goes resentment grows_   
_We will walk our different ways_

_But those are the days that bind us together, forever_   
_And those little things define us forever, forever_

* * *

 

You quietly crawled across the floor, keeping your body as low to the tile as you could.

Reaching the door, you were surprised to find it propped open with a small brick.  You paused, frowning.  When you had run through this scenario and studied the layout of the museum that door was always closed.

You bit your lip, trying to decide what to do next.  You needed that bone, you had to have it.  If you got caught and were arrested you would never get it and it was all over.   But if you didn’t go get it now it was all over anyways. Mind made up, you went ahead and moved forward, knowing it was your only choice.

Once you were through the doorway you stood, looking around and noticing nothing else was out of place.    You quietly walked around the corner only to stop suddenly.  There was a man standing in front of a glass case, the bone you were desperate for in his hand.

You pulled your gun out, slowly clicking off the safety and aiming at the back of his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need you to put that down,” you said, surprised at how calm your voice sounded.

The man casually turned around. “Y/N, it’s been years.”

You stared, almost lowering the gun in shock.  “John Winchester.”

“In the flesh darling,” he said with a grin, spreading his arms.

“What are you doing here?”

“Collecting an artifact I need to finish a summoning spell,” he replied, casually tossing the bone in the air and catching it.

“I need that bone Winchester,” you said, trying to be as forceful as possible.

“Then you should have been here first,” he said, dropping it into his bag. You could hear the anger in his voice.  Apparently six years wasn’t enough time to let old wounds heal.

“I’m not playing,” you said, waving the gun at him.

“We both know you won’t pull that trigger.   You don’t want to shoot me or you would have a long time ago.  There were plenty of times I would have deserved it.”

“You don’t understand,” you said. “I have to get that bone.”

John moved, walking up on you until you were pressed against a display case, his body caging you in. He leaned down, his lips near your ear. “It’s too bad I’m a _heartless bastard_.”

You felt yourself flush with shame, remembering what you had said to him the last time you saw each other.  The anger in your voice when you called him a heartless bastard and told him to fuck off as you climbed from his hotel bed and dressed, leaving without looking back. For six years you hadn’t looked back.

“Let me go,” you said, your hand holding the gun loosely at your side now.

He looked down at you, his eyes studying your face.  He was so close you could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.

“This way, door A-11 is open,” you heard someone yell.  You both turned in time to see the bouncing of flashlight beams on the floor.

“Shit,” you whispered.

John looked down at you, before grabbing your hand and turning, moving further into the room and pulling you along.

“Where are we going?”

“Shut up,” he growled at you, pulling you through a doorway and down a back hallway.

“John, we need to leave,” you said, trying to tug his hand to stop him.

“The security system locks all exterior doors during a breach. We aren’t getting out of here. You would have known that if you had done proper research.”

You rolled your eyes but let him pull you along until reaching an empty office.  “There’s a staircase in the back of the closet. Use it,” he said, pushing you in.

You moved, taking the stairs two at a time.  When you arrived at the top you were in a pitch black room.  You fumbled for your flashlight but couldn’t find it.

You heard glass shatter and then you heard John come up the stairs. “Hold this,” he said, pushing his flashlight in your hands as he pulled a knife out, cutting his hand and drawing a sealing sigil on the door.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“I broke a window so they will think we left that way.  Just in case they want to check up here they won’t be able to get the door open.”

“Where are we?”

“It’s an old storage room.  They don’t use it anymore, everything is held in the vaults now.”

You shined the flashlight around the room, finding an empty space about half the size of the office below.   The floor was covered in dust. “So what now?”

“We wait.  Once they open in the morning we just walk out.”

“I walk out with my bone,” you said.

Instead of answering you, John sat down against the wall, stretching his long legs out. “Still hunting then?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still have the Mustang?”

You sighed. “Yes I still hunt.  Yes I still drive the Mustang.  John, I just want the bone and I want to get out of here,” you said.

“Feel free to leave,” he said, gesturing to the door. “And good luck with security. But it’s my bone.”

You removed your backpack before slumping against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

“Why do you want the bone so bad?” he asked.

“I just do. I need it for something I’m working on.”

“What?”

“What does it matter? Why do you care?”

“I don’t sweetheart, just trying to make conversation.”

“Six years too late,” you muttered.

“Hey, I don’t remember you opening up to me either,” John snapped, turning the flashlight off.

You jumped a little at the sudden darkness. “When was I suppose to open up to you John? When you had your head completely immersed in a hunt? Or when you were fucking me on a dirty hotel mattress? Because those were the only times I saw you.”

He didn’t respond and the silence stretched out for several awkward minutes. You pinched your nose and suppressed another sigh.  “How are the boys?”

“Fine.”

“Fuck I could use some Hunters Helper right now,” you mumbled after several more moments of silence.

John chuckled. “That is something we can agree on.”

You leaned your head against the wall, wondering what time it was.   Your feet were starting to tingle and you knew that wasn’t a good sign.

John turned his flashlight on and rummaged through his bag, pulling out a bottle of water.  After taking a drink he leaned forward to pass it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking a sip and handing it back.

“Why did you leave that day?” John asked.

“Seriously John? After six years you want to have this talk while we are trapped in a room the size of a closet?”

“Why not? You can’t run away from me this time.”

“Run away from you? Coming from a man who used sex to shut me up every time I wanted to talk about anything real that’s hilarious. Who was running from what?”

“Sweetheart, you knew what you were getting with me.  You were a hunter. You knew the lifestyle,” he paused for a moment. “And I made it clear I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I never lied to you.”

“No John you didn’t. I was well aware you were still in love with your wife. Hell, I have a feeling I wasn’t the only woman you were sleeping with.   I knew I would never have your heart. I thought I was okay with having just your time and your body.  But I wasn’t.  You know why I ran away? Because I was scared to death to admit I had fallen in love with you. Curled up against you after sex and having you go right into talking about the yellow eyed demon and _Mary_ I snapped and I left.”

John was silent.  You tried to shift, to curl up in to yourself, but you couldn’t move your legs below your knees. You felt yourself starting to panic, you were supposed to have at least 24 hours left.  You flexed your hands, noticing the tingling in your fingers.

“John,” you could hear the stress in your voice, even though you tried hard to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” he said, instantly picking up on it.

“I really need that bone.”

“I don’t know what you are hunting but I can’t give it to you. It’s the last ingredient I need for the summoning spell for the Colt.”

The Colt.  The weapon that could destroy his yellow eyed demon.  The revenge he had been seeking for his wife’s murder.

No matter what you couldn’t take that away from him. His chance for justice. For peace.  And then it hit you that six years hadn’t changed the way you felt, you still loved John Winchester.

“I’m really tired, I’m going to try and sleep,” you muttered, faking a yawn.

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” John said softly.

You tried to fight the tears but they came anyway.  Silent trails running down your cheeks.

You sat against the wall and felt the tingling and then the numbness creep up your body.  It was to your pelvis and starting up your arms now.  You were surprised at how fast it was moving.

You weren’t going to make it another hour and then John was going to find your dead body.

“John?”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Sweetheart, it’s in the past,” John replied, reaching out to place his hand on your leg. “I deserved most of it anyways.”

He paused, feeling the extreme cold through your pants. “Y/N?”

“Hmmmmm?”

“It’s almost 100 degrees up here.  Why is your leg so cold?”

“Please don’t touch me,” you replied.

John turned his flashlight on pointing it at you. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled, almost dropping the light. You looked down and could see the deep blue tendrils the curse was leaving across your skin.

“I am hunting a witch,” you admitted.  “She hit me with a curse. I had about 48 hours to make the cure but my time is about up.”

“The bone.  It’s an ingredient to the cure?”

You nodded.

“Why didn’t you say so from the start?” John asked, anger dripping from every word.

“Why start being honest with each other now?” you replied.  “I was too angry at you to tell you earlier. And then when I found out you needed it for the Colt I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t take away your chance.”

John shifted to your side, his hand coming up to sooth your hair before reaching across you to get your bag. “The other ingredients are in here?”

You nodded and watched as he pulled out the bottle, mixed and waiting on the bone.

He reached into his own bag pulling the bone out and setting it on the ground, pulling another little brick out. 

“John stop.  What about the Colt?”

“I’ll find it another day.  I’m not sacrificing your life for my revenge sweetheart.”

He began the process of grinding the bone into a powder before adding it to the bottle. He turned to you, holding the bottle up to your mouth.

You drank the awful liquid, gagging but somehow keeping it down.   You could feel the numbness leaving your body. You both sat against the wall in silence for a moment.  His hand reached out to take yours.

“Thank you,” you finally said.

“You should have told me up front.”

“John…”

“I did care about you,” he interrupted, his thumb stroking your hand. “I cared about you as much as I could.  I worried when you went on hunts. Why do you think I checked in with you so often?”

You suddenly felt mentally exhausted and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“There was never anyone else Y/N.  You were the only one.  There wasn’t much of me left after losing Mary.  But what was there I gave to you.  I loved you the best way I could.”

You looked up to see his face inches from yours.  A familiar longing went through your body and when he leaned closer you didn’t pull away, you had missed his kisses. 

* * *

 

“Y/N, wake up,” you heard John say, shaking you gently.

“What’s wrong?”

“The museum is open, it’s time to leave,” he replied, reaching for his jeans.

You slowly stood, your body protesting from the trauma of the curse, the hard floor, and the rough love making that was John’s style. You looked down to see you already had bruises on your hips.

Once you both were dressed you made your way down the stairs and out the hallway into the restroom corridor of the museum.

Holding hands you slipped into the Tuesday morning crowd and walked out the front doors. 

John walked you to your Mustang, parked a couple blocks away.

“There she is!” he said, dropping your hand to run up to your car, rubbing her hood.

You laughed. “She missed you.”

“I missed her,” he said, looking in your eyes.

“Soooo….”

He leaned down to kiss you. “I want to see you again.  Maybe we can go on a real date.”

Your heart soared.  A real date. Not a hunt. Not a hotel room hook up. “I would love that John,” you said, getting into your car.

“Then I will see you soon,” he said, leaning in the window to kiss you again before you pulled away, seeing him wave in the rear view mirror.

 


End file.
